


The Rabid and the Heir

by SwampWitch333



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Master/Pet, Narcissism, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Other, Poetry, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 12:25:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15437010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwampWitch333/pseuds/SwampWitch333
Summary: Joan Ferguson / Vera Bennett"The stench of love for a younger" me(at) And the sound that it makes when it cuts in deep"-The Cure , Disintegration





	The Rabid and the Heir

Black ops cleared, ready to strike, a high voltage hurricane onstage gripping the mic  
Narcissus staring back at a younger carbon copy, how divine the stream has found it's source back to the great lake  
For that of which i ache, a trophy, my mind has atrophied into a jungle, emotions held down by dense vines  
Passing down the chalice drunk on power   
Apex, top of the tower, for I've stopped the clock, Vera unpin your hair, i know who you pine for your secrets are safe alongside my demons.  
Bloodstained, the pure untrampled snow, wind gusts that blow, covering the feast below from hungry vultures seeking out a fresh kill of carrion; for i have carried you thus far and will preserve what's mine.  
Salvation in Protege, saliva dripping down fangs, desire for what is to be  
We circle eachother daily, routines, repetitious repeating, revolution in the making  
My Vera, you are evolving!

A youthful version; virginal prototype, protesting against the inevitable evils  
The systematic attacks we enact to achieve,  
Collateral damage they shall grieve overnight stays and worse.  
Living in a daze, cut like the edge, razorwire outskirts of town.   
Vera! Snatched by her scruff i will not allow her to drown in this whitewashed whirlpool, windwhipped and reddened raw, i see down to her bone, a heir to my threatened throne has been acquired!  
Flailing i hurl her onto the rocks, another shot of vodka downed. She burns for me, having grown accustomed to the taste of violence, the symbolism of strife  
Vera remains silent a self sacrificing siren, conflicting oppositionional defiance to the tyrant, her heart pounds against my shores, without boundaries her ego alit, flitting about It's id Omens of an older self she seeks out my qualifications a heavy dose of iv administered admiration  
Abound, binding with blinding light my fight; her flight.  
I grip her arm tight as a vise..she will not escape my transfusion, fusing us infinitely  
"...VerA!" I warn.  
Looks of lust filled scorn, my acorn looks up at her mighty Oak tree admiringly in adoration.

Adorned with leaves, my willowwisp takes off into the night.  
Delighted at the chase, I laugh aloud, sticking a needle into the swamped earth, someone's grounded now! Eyes aglow, glinting like a recently sharpened knife  
These lights are not what they seem, for I've recaptured my little firefly.  
Placed in a jar beside my bed, Vera raps on the glass, beckoning me, bedecked in tiny jewels, water droplets fall, unheard tears splashing.  
If i let you out, do you promise to play nice?   
Long lashes, doe eyes lashing out lingering looks laid upon me, caught in the headlights of a younger me, i unscrew the lid.

My crown has slid scrambling haphazardly, happenstance, a meeting of chance, Vera is.  
Nodding, lips licked, she looks up at me, "Yes, Governor."  
It's not the crown she wants, it's my gloves.  
It's all or nothing, Vera. You wear them with me, now.  
Eagerly awaiting aforementioned outcomes she bares her baby teeth ready to gnaw on my leather.  
Teething and tethered at the wrists, a million eyes, shards of glass smashed mirrors sobbing, for they are no longer needed.  
For Vera stands willingly, before me. Awaiting her orders eagerly, she exhales.  
Flaring nostrils, my mouth agape; her agape irrefutable, i suck in her breathe, reinvigorating, the missing piece fits, we will be reborn. After all, a little reform is always necessary.


End file.
